


A Long Time

by pluto



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2 - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:50:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluto/pseuds/pluto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus has loved Shepard for a long time.  Written for ME kinkmeme (slightly cleaned up from that version).</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Mass Effect Kinkmeme. Request: We all know how FShep comes on to Garrus out of the blue with that "blow off steam" comment, and we can see he seems eager enough to agree. I'm thinking what if Garrus has been in love with FShep since before she died, but never had the courage to ask her out - maybe he kept putting it off until "after Saren", "after the geth cleanup"; then she died and he got hit by a rocket to the face and he started putting it off again but always promised himself he'd try. Now she propositioned him in a way that doesn't seem at all like love, and everything like friends handling stress, and he thinks that puts him soo deep into the friend zone that he's missed his chance to ever have more. I'd love to see his thoughts during their first night together, how the happiness of finally having her is overshadowed by the pain of what he thinks he'll never truly have, and maybe him wondering if it would have been different had he managed to woo her when he first fell in love.

Garrus has loved Shepard for a long time.

He doesn't know exactly when it started, but he knows when he finally realized it. He'd been coming off his shift at C-Sec when a stray statement from a Galactic News kiosk hit him like a concussive shot to the gut: the famous Commander Shepard was confirmed dead, killed in an attack on the Normandy.

He had left the Normandy--left Shepard--planning to be back, sooner or later. Ideally under her mentorship, as a fellow Spectre. And as he stared numbly at the newscaster, he suddenly understood he'd been anticipating that reunion for more than just professional reasons.

In that moment he'd seen all that could've been, and all that would never be. And it broke something in him, something already too close to breaking before he'd met her.

The galaxy lost some of its light, and Garrus lost his way.

#

And then she's alive again, whole and brash and tough, as if they've never missed a beat.

Garrus supposes for her that's exactly how it is: one minute, he's departing for C-Sec, she's off to fight more geth, she's dead, and then--hey, old friend. They're taking on the galaxy, the collectors, the mercs, they're laughing, exchanging war stories. Just like old times.

Except now he can't avoid how he feels. Can't hide it. Now that he knows what it felt like to lose her. He keeps telling himself that he'll say something--that he has to say something. That he can't miss his chance again. But the moments come and go, too short and never right between the increasing frequency and urgency of their missions.

He's talking to her about prepping for high-risk missions on a turian ship when his story goes places he doesn't expect, and then _she_ does. She's not exactly subtle about what she wants--of course not, it's Commander Shepard. They've always been blunt with each other. And he _is_ tense.

But when she leaves the battery room he can't help but feel restless, not-quite-happy, caught off guard. This isn't the way he imagined things playing out. He wasn't in love with that long-ago recon scout. He isn't after just blowing off steam. But he's pretty sure she is, from the things she says then, from the things she says later.

#

Trouble is, he wants so badly for things to go right, he can't bring himself to say anything. He comes to her quarters with wine and music and his clumsy compliments, hoping to loosen himself up. They could die tomorrow, and he's determined to tell her how he feels. To find out how she feels, exactly. He tries to get it out:

"I want something to go right. Just once. Just…"

And then she's touching him, and he can't finish. He's tongue-tied by all that he wants from her. When she strokes his scar the words fall from his lips and they touch foreheads and he discovers he's waiting. He's waiting for her to say it. If she felt it, if she loved him, if this is more than just a bit of stress relief between friends… A turian female would have declared it before allowing him into her room, to formalize the arrangement, to promote it to that higher level. But humans, they're not like that, he tells himself. Things aren't careful protocol, permitted violence, arranged outlets.

He opens his mouth to try again, and she cups his face in both hands, strokes his mandibles in a way that makes him shiver. He might not have watched the vids, but she has. Her fingers travel along his jawline to the softer skin of his neck, down to the collar of his shirt. He can see the fire in Shepard's eyes, the need mixed with respect, honest support.

"This can't go wrong," she murmurs. "It's me, Garrus. Your old friend. Let go."

Friend.

He feels something stutter inside of him. She would die for him, she would sleep with him, but she'll never love him the way he loves her.

He lets the words fall away, unspoken.

#

He lets her steer him to the bed, undresses silently. He wants her, there's no denying. He's seen the human girls in Fornax and they've never done anything for him, but Shepard…. As she opens her tunic and bares herself to him he wants to scream for how beautiful she looks to him, to know he can never have her, not the way he wants. Soft but strong, lean and muscular, with her strange, thick waist and her plate-less skin. And then she's over him, and his body doesn't care what his heart wants. He's opening up to her, revealing himself. Her fingers are cool--almost cold--on him and he shivers, but then she moves over him, sinks onto him--and then he thinks, if this is what he can have, if this is what she'll give--it's more than he expected, more than he deserves. She is lithe and flexible like no turian, and he watches her move over him, feline and powerful, taking her pleasure, giving him pleasure. He wishes, briefly, that she would open her eyes, that he would see what he wants there. And then it doesn't matter. She squeezes around him, clenches as she comes, and he digs his fingers into her hips and bucks up, losing it himself, and for a moment they move together as one, they come together as one.

He comes down from that high gasping, and then she's moving off him. He slips out of her and the air of the room feels like ice against his Shepard-slicked skin. She brushes his arm with her fingertips before she heads for the shower, and then the room is empty except for him, alone on her bed.

Garrus tells himself it's enough. It's all he can ask of her. They had a good time. Maybe they'll have more good times, if they survive the hell waiting for them.

But he can't help but feel like it's one more loss to add to his endless list.

#

Somehow they survive the collectors, tell Cerberus to go to hell, limp off to lick their wounds. Garrus finds himself back in the main battery, faced with re-adjusting the Thanix Cannon after her successful inaugural run. It's easy to lose himself in the task; he barely notices when the battery room door opens behind him.

Shepard clears her throat. Somehow he turns, calmly. "Need me for something?"

She's wailing him one hard in the shoulder, knocking him slightly off balance. And then she's doing something with her mouth--on his face--and he gasps, pushing her away. "What the hell, Shepard!"

"Thought I lost you too many damn times out there!" she says, hard, and he blinks in confusion. "That shot in your stomach--Dammit, Garrus, don't do that to me!"

"All right, Commander…?" he says, tentatively. And then: "But why did you--uh, try to eat my face?"

She stares, and then laughs. It's a good laugh, a laugh that makes his insides hurt with loving her. He tries to squelch those feelings, to no avail. But then she's touching his face.

"It was a kiss," she says. "Humans like to kiss the people they care about."

"Oh." He starts to turn back to his console, and she catches his arm. Backs him up against it.

"Goddammit, I'm saying I love you, Vakarian, and you can't even say the same? Don't tell me I'm misreading you?" She falls a step back, looking suddenly, confusingly uncertain. He can't stop staring at her, can't stop wondering if he took some kind of blow to the head. "Okay," she says. "Let's just forget this little--"

He grabs her by the shoulders, pulls her in close. Rubs his cheek against hers, strokes his mandible against her jaw. Presses their brows together.

"Turians do that to the ones they care about," he says, softly.

"I see," she says, equally soft, as if she's afraid of disturbing something.

He takes a deep breath, and he finally gets the words out, after all this time. "I love you, Shepard."


End file.
